


Orioles in Their Nest

by bluetoast



Series: Birds of a Feather [51]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Bullying, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1644557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetoast/pseuds/bluetoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liesel tries to be a good kid - and she is, for the most part. She knows things can't go back to how they were before her mom died, but she'd settle for better than they are now. Being a kid, there's not much she can do to change things - except follow her grandmother's advice on what to do when you don't know what to do: pray. Dean's doing the best he can with the single parent thing. Work, however, seems to be his biggest adversary - and it doesn't help that Liesel isn't anymore open about what's bothering her than he is. Maybe they're just long overdue for a miracle, as a song he once read goes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orioles in Their Nest

Liesel Andrea Coulter, age seven and a half – was, by her own estimation, a pretty okay kid. She kept her room clean, ate her vegetables and did her homework. She didn't have to have the newest toy other things the kids in her class had – she maintained the belief she was the _only_ second grader at Holy Family who didn't have a Nintendo DS or a variation thereof. Since she wore a uniform to school, she could care less if she had clothes that the other girls in her class had – the last thing in regards to fashion that she'd asked for was a pair of navy blue Converse sneakers, and she'd promised hundreds on two months of spelling tests if she got them.

Liesel made good on that promise – though she had a feeling her dad would have gotten her the shoes even if one of the tests had been a ninety-eight, instead of a hundred. Her dad most likely would have let her have the shoes even if she barely passed them. It wasn't that her dad ever insisted she bring home good grades, she merely assumed that's what she was supposed to do. Her top marked tests graced the fridge, the gold stars gleaming brightly in the kitchen light. It'd been that way for as long as she could remember; until recently.

She wasn't exactly sure when her teacher flipped from being nice to her to being, well, sort of mean. Oh, she still got those perfect or near-perfect scores on her tests and assignments, but the stickers vanished. She knew that the teacher hadn't run out of them because she had seen them on other kid's tests – some of them with grades as much as ten points lower than hers.

Maybe the teacher was just trying to be fair, and Liesel had used up her gold-star allotment in the first half of the school year. 

Half of the girls in Liesel's class were in Brownies. Liesel thought it looked sort of fun, they played games and worked on projects that were shown in the big display case in the front of the school, next to the one with all the school's trophies from city sports tournaments and stuff. But she knew better than to ask her dad if she could join. It was something extra to add to the schedule and since her dad's work schedule was almost never the same, it wasn't possible. Even though she felt that Mr. Jay, the man who watched her while her dad worked would probably be more than capable of picking her up an hour later on the days there was a meeting. 

But Mr. Jay was always writing and she didn't want to have him reschedule something either. So no Brownies. That also meant no soccer, no baseball, no swimming – except in summer – no dance or any other sort of thing like that. Even though she was seven and a half – Liesel knew full well she never wanted to do gymnastics. Both her parents had been gymnasts and she knew the time it took up – and both of her parents had told her long ago that they wanted her to be a kid, not some gymnastic drone with the Olympic Games the only thing on her mind.

What Liesel felt she needed wasn't lessons or sports, not yet, anyway – what she needed was something to happen for her and her dad to start acting a little more like a family. It seemed the only time there was closeness was around the holidays or when Grandma and Grandpa were involved. Trouble was, being seven and a half, she had no idea where to start. 

She wasn't sure about this thing called grief. It was common word in her life and it was used to explain away a lot of things that she wasn't sure if it was caused by it or not. Why was she so quiet? Why was Dad always working? Why don't the Coulters come to parish sponsored events, why don't they... it just went on an on to the point where Liesel just wanted someone to explain what they meant. It wasn't like she didn't understand the fact that her mom was dead. She understood that – mom had gotten sick and gone to Heaven and she wasn't coming back. Liesel knew that and while she would rather have her mom here with her and her mom had most likely wanted to stay, she couldn't. 

Mom had died the summer before first grade, almost two years ago. Liesel missed her mom but at the same time she wanted her daddy back to the way he was before. Or something. She just wanted him to stop being sad. She wanted to stop being sad. Mr. Jay sometimes said that the joy was missing in their house. Liesel had asked him several times what it looked like so she could check under all the beds, but he just shook his head and gave her a hug. 

One thing Liesel _definitely_ didn't want was a new mom. That _always_ seemed to be the solution in a lot of movies she'd seen where the kids had no mom. They got a new one and somehow, that made things _great._ The kids stopped getting into trouble and everything was fresh baked cookies and cold milk. 

Liesel knew better than to believe something that stupid.

Odds were, if she somehow _did_ get a new mom, she'd probably be deaf, like dad. Then she'd be even more alone being the only person in her family who could hear. Mr. Jay would go away and she wouldn't have someone to listen to her reading to make sure she was doing it right, she'd fall behind and then – well, she could think of a lot of things that would happen. A new mom followed by a new brother or sister who'd also be deaf – and well, _no thank you._ She didn't want that and she'd rather move to Romania and live with Grandma and Grandpa Madgearu than stay in the house and be the 'hearing person' in the family, like she had some sort of illness. 

She couldn't think of a solution to the problem, so she figured the best thing for her to do was what her Grandma had always said was a good way to find an answer: pray.

Today was Shrove Tuesday and while she heard her dad in the kitchen making pancakes and bacon for dinner, she scanned the bookshelves in the family room, frowning slightly at the _Child's Book of Prayer_ and then past it – that book wouldn't help her. Two tomes of identical height stood next to each other and she read the title that graced both of them: _Lives of the Saints_ – and an idea came to her.

Liesel pulled the blue one down from the shelf, turning it over in her hands. God was, no doubt, _extremely_ busy person and the problems of a little girl who had a lot of blessings weren't exactly a priority. She would simply look through here, find a saint who probably didn't get a lot of prayers – was there a patron saint of watchmakers or something like that? - and then ask her mom and the saint for help. Her mom probably knew a few angels as well – so maybe they could help too.

She hugged the book to her and ran upstairs to put it in her room before going back downstairs and into the kitchen. When she got there, she took the step-stool down from where it was tucked under a low part of the counter and went to get the plates down. After she set the table, she slid into one of the tall chairs at the counter and watched her father cook dinner.

“How was school today?” Dean glanced up from the pan. 

“It was pretty good. We made prayer chains for Lent and we all wrote something on forty slips of paper and each day we're supposed to take the link from the end and do what we wrote down to do that day.” She rubbed her nose.

“What sort of things did you write?” He set the spatula down, his eyes occasionally glancing down to watch the griddle.

“Things like pray for the poor, help out a classmate, say something nice to someone who I normally don't talk too.” She sat back slightly, thinking for a moment. “Oh, and I'm supposed to tell you that even though tomorrow is All-School Mass, it's not a dress-up day.” 

“I think the only dress up days for All-School Mass at your school are the last day and All-Saints in November.” Dean flipped the last of the pancakes onto the serving plate and set it on the counter. “Now I think we're about ready. Why don't you go get the syrup out of the pantry and I'll meet you at the table.”

“Yes, Dad.” She got down from her seat and did as he asked. 

After they said Grace and they both had their servings of food, the conversation resumed – as it always did at dinner – completely in sign language – which Liesel always felt was great because it allowed her to eat and still talk at the same time. 

_“Did you finish your homework this afternoon?”_ Her dad asked before picking up a piece of bacon.

 _“I didn't have that much. Mr. Jay listened to my spelling words and helped me study for my math test on Thursday.”_ She took a bite of pancake. _“How was your day?”_

 _“Busy.”_ That was her dad's standard response to the question. _“I have a lot of paperwork to finish up. Now, we both decided to give up sweets for Lent, right?”_

 _“Yes, Dad.”_ Liesel turned her attention to her food. She knew she was a lucky girl – but really, was this all there was? How was your day and did you do your homework? Something told her that there had to be more than this. She'd been to her friend's houses for dinner. They talked about plans, sports, something funny they had heard at work or school. They laughed and it seemed less order and more laid back. Even over at her best friend Emma's house – things there rarely seemed sad.

She cut into her last pancake, silently wishing her mom was still alive. Maybe mom could help her find the missing joy.

*  
Liesel went to school on Ash Wednesday with a renewed sense of hope. She'd leafed through the book and found Saint Lydia, the patron saint of dyers. She'd had to look up what a dyer was in a dictionary and figured that she might not be as busy as someone like Saint Thomas More, patron of religious freedom and lawyers or Saint Anthony, patron of missing things. The book had said Lydia came from a place famous for their purple dyes and since purple was a Lenten color, all the better. Not to mention that her mom's favorite color had been purple, so that just added to the mix.

*  
When the math test that Liesel and her classmates took on the day after Ash Wednesday were returned, she was confused. There was a bright red 98 on the top – and no sticker or 'very good' or 'excellent' accompanying it. She glanced over at Sally Burrgess, who sat next to her who was staring at a 82 with a gold star and a 'great job!' to boot. Liesel looked back down at her test, confused. What had she done wrong? Was there actually a gold star _and_ praise allotment? The teacher had twenty-five math tests to grade, along with everything else. Liesel couldn't understand it. 

**  
Dean had honestly had enough of people trying to help him. The listings for Parents Without Partners, support groups of all sorts and the occasional offer to come to a party where there 'will be a lot of single people' made him sick. He didn't want to get remarried, he didn't need a new partner, he didn't _want_ a new relationship and while he knew that his friends and coworkers meant well, it was frustrating sometimes. Things were complicated enough in his life and honestly? The idea of spending time with anyone but Ignacia? It made his stomach turn. Perhaps it was the way these people just so causally mentioned it that pissed him off. You didn't go and ask someone who lost a child if they were going to have another baby, now did you?

These were human beings – important people in your life – it wasn't like they were goldfish. 

Trying to get their lives back together had been hard on him and on Liesel. He knew they were nowhere near close to being good. Things were mildly better. They both got up every morning, went to work and school respectively, and managed to keep going. 

Their lives were now all about order. They went to the same mass every week – nothing new, the 11:30 was the only one with a translator for him – they did the grocery shopping together, they just sort of lived. Liesel never said much about it.

Dean honestly felt bad about it – and he knew that he couldn't let anything or anyone take priority over his being a parent, but the rest of the world seemed to constantly conspire against him in that regard.

An arrogant prick of a resident was making that abundantly clear with his treatment towards both him, a string of registered nurses and nearly every underling at the hospital. Dean long ago learned the power of a simple thank you – something he never hesitated to give anyone who helped him at work. Consequently, there wasn't a nurse in the place who didn't respect him. A few even remarked how they wished they were all like him.

Dean wasn't too sure about that. He had plenty of issues and was pretty good at making things appear to be working.

He just had no idea how to go about getting things to improve at home. There were little things – the always planned movie night on Fridays, brunch after Sunday Mass, going over schoolwork at least twice a week – but it still seemed too hard. Liesel never seemed to be constantly sad – at least, she never said anything about it. 

Dean shook his head to clear it and pulled his dinner out of the work fridge. He'd eat and then go prepare for an evening surgery. He really hated the days he got home after Liesel was already asleep in bed.

*  
Two weeks before Easter, Liesel went out to dinner with the Steins to celebrate Emma's birthday. She hadn't told her best friend about her plan to try and make a miracle, because Emma had plenty of her own problems. Her grandpa had old-timers disease, or at least, that's what it sounded like. She wasn't too sure what that was, only that Mr. Stein kept calling her Olga – and she didn't even know anyone named Olga. 

Mr. Jay told her to be patient with the man and that he couldn't help it.

It must have gotten really bad lately, because Emma's parents took Mr. Stein to a nursing home. Because of that, Emma wasn't able to stay at home in the afternoons and was in some sort of after-care thing at her school. That meant they usually only saw each other on the weekends – and if Mr. Stein didn't get better, there went spending summer together too. 

Maybe those mean Carmichael and Langley girls would stop acting so superior and actually start to play with her this year.

Emma's birthday fell on the weekend of Passover – and her parents were celebrating early. 

“Liesel, is there anything you don't like on your pizza?” Mrs. Stein looked over the menu at her, her smile evident in her eyes.

“Those greasy fish things.” She made a face. “I forget what they're called.”

“Anchovies.” Emma's dad offered, splitting a bread-stick in half and setting a part on her and Emma's plates. “I don't think anyone likes them.”

“We're going to get mushrooms on it, right?” Emma put in, running her half of the bread into the sauce. “I love mushrooms!”

“Yes, honey, we're getting mushrooms.” Mrs. Stein put the menu down. “You eat those, right, Liesel?”

“Yes, Mrs. Stein.” Liesel replied, taking a drink of water from her glass. “Thank you for taking me with you.” 

“Oh, we couldn't leave you out.” Mr. Stein gave her a smile. “Are you sure you don't want a soda?”

“I'm sure. But thank you.” She set her glass down. “No sweets means no sweets.” She grinned. “Just means I get a good helping of bread pudding next Sunday instead of a spoonful.”

Both of Emma's parents laughed.

Emma turned to her. “Grown-ups are silly.” 

“Yeah. Yeah they are.” Liesel gave her friend an awkward smile. “I think that's just something that happens when you get big.”

“Well, I'm never going to be silly.” She folded her arms and lifted her chin. “I refuse to be silly.”

“I think silly's a requirement of growing up.” She replied as the waitress came over and took their order. “I think it just... happens. Like how we don't notice we're getting bigger until our shoes stop fitting.”

“I guess so.” Emma took another bite of bread. “Dad said you were going to go to Romania this summer. Is that all of summer?”

“No, not until August – and just for a few weeks.” Liesel picked up her own bread. “I can't remember anything from the last time we went, I was a baby.”

“I hope grandpa gets better soon. I don't like staying at school.” Emma's shoulders drooped. “Dad says he might not get better.”

“I bet he will.” Liesel gave her an encouraging smile. “Maybe he just needs a good rest. My great-grandmama says that a few weeks rest are always good for a recharge. That's why she goes to New Mexico every February.”

“You think so?” Emma smile looked less certain.

“I'm pretty sure.” She gave her friend a one armed hug as the waitress returned with a steaming bowl of spinach-artichoke dip.

**  
Liesel pulled off the last purple ring of her Lenten chain – it was Holy Thursday and today was a half day – no school tomorrow. Her dad had the weekend off – for the first time in what felt like forever. Grandma and Grandpa weren't coming down for the holiday, but would be here in a few weeks for her First Communion. She unfolded her slip of paper and read her phrase for the day.

_Pray for people who don't like me_

She tucked the slip of paper into her bag and went into her classroom, sliding into her seat. Half days were always fun. That thought however, went right out of her mind when she saw what was written on the blackboard. 

_Mother's Day Tea – Friday, May 11_

Mother's Day Tea? Liesel swallowed hard. What was she going to do? 

_Silly. I'll just invite Dad._

The teacher finally came into the classroom, carrying stack of papers. She looked grumpy again. Liesel straightened up in her seat as the woman picked up the attendance sheet and started to check the students off. After she was finished she set the form down and after morning prayer, she picked up the stack of papers, her face stern.

“I was disappointed in this last Social Studies test.” She started to hand them back. “We will be going over the material again today, as several of your classmates have already left for this Easter weekend.” She passed Liesel's desk, almost slapping down the test.

Liesel swallowed hard and lifted the corner of the test and saw the bright red '100' almost glaring at her. What was odd was the foil silver star and the 'Excellent!' scrawled under it – in unfamiliar handwriting. Had someone helped her teacher grade the papers? That had to be it. 

“All right class, question one, would someone please tell me the difference between a capital and a capitol?” She raised her eyes to look at the three raised hands, including Liesel's – and immediately looked the other way.

Liesel watched as her classmate Harper, whose hand wasn't even raised, was called on to give the answer. And he didn't get it right. She decided she wouldn't put her hand up for every question. That might look like she was being a know-it-all. People didn't like people like that.

*  
Dean was looking forward to the long holiday weekend. Adam was coming up from New Orleans. His girlfriend was going on a trip with 'the girls' leaving the poor kid without anyone to spend the holiday with. Given that Adam was currently the only Winchester who believed in God, he didn't mind. Adam wouldn't be here until tomorrow – but it would be good to get to spend some time with him.

His relationship with his brothers was weird. He knew that the two of them were far closer with each other than he was with either of them. He understood that – still didn't mean he didn't feel left out from time to time. But maintaining a relationship with them was dangerous. Dean always worried that John Winchester would show up one day – uninvited and certainly unwanted. He didn't think that the man would hurt him or Liesel, but after what he went through – he couldn't exactly say his fears were unfounded. 

Clouds had been stacking up all afternoon and now the first rumbles of thunder were echoing across the city. The rain was welcome, but Dean definitely wanted to be home before it started. People in Austin had no idea how to drive in the rain. He couldn't imagine what they'd do with snow. 

*  
Liesel went into the dining room to get the box with her mom's – well, technically it was hers – silver in it. After she and her dad had dinner, they'd sit down and polish a few place settings for Sunday dinner. Tomorrow was for cleaning and dyeing eggs. Saturday they'd bake. 

“You don't have to do that right now, Lis.” Her dad's voice called out from the kitchen. 

She went over to the sideboard and hefted the wooden chest out of it's place and onto the table. A flash of lightning and loud clap of thunder, coupled with a cracking sound she couldn't place caused her to turn and she blinked. She could have sworn she saw something... a thump sounded against the side of the house, not sharp and quick like hail, but it was more like a slap, like a raft in the Stein's pool. She took a step towards the window and then nearly fell over. 

“Dad!” She bolted from the room and raced into the kitchen, almost plowing into her father. 

“Liesel?” Dean was glad he hadn't been carrying anything heavy or hot when his girl ran into the room. “What?”

“There's someone out there!” Her eyes widened for emphasis. “There's someone outside in the bushes! I think they fell out of the sky!”

Dean frowned, wanting to dismiss it as his little girl just saying things. 

_And since when does Liesel make up stories?_

“All right, we'll go look, okay?”

“Okay.” She went over to the low drawer and got out the flashlight. “We might need this.”

“Good plan.” He ruffled her hair, took the flashlight and they went to the backdoor. 

The rain that had been threatening to fall all afternoon had started and while it wasn't driving, it was steady as he and Liesel walked around to the side of the house towards the dining room window. He supposed it was a good thing that the only ones who could have seen them, the McBrides, were in Missouri for the weekend. 

Dean held the flashlight steady and scanned the side yard and caught a glimpse of tan against green. A moment later, he felt his daughter squeeze his hand and saw her point. He turned to where she was looking and nearly dropped the flashlight. This was, without question, the most unbelievable thing he had ever seen in his life. They took two steps closer and in a flash of lightning, Dean confirmed that the two of them weren't seeing things.

Lying spread eagle and unconscious on the partially collapsed forsythia bushes was an angel. He wearing a trench-coat, he was bleeding from a very ugly wound in his chest and another on his hand. One wing was against the house, and the other appeared to be twisted, the tip nearly reaching the ground. In another flash of lightning, the angel's wings vanished and he all but rolled onto the ground at their feet.


End file.
